


You Won Me

by hemsglee



Series: Panther T'Challa [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Grooming, M/M, Panther T'Challa, Possessive Behavior, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 07:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13654320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemsglee/pseuds/hemsglee
Summary: T’Challa is more than just the Black Panther- being King of Wakanda comes with other perks, like the ability to take on the physical form and instincts of an actual panther.Everett Ross has just had the misfortune of stumbling into one of the king’s meticulous grooming sessions.





	You Won Me

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Za jego uszami](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14024508) by [Lampira7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lampira7/pseuds/Lampira7)



Everett really wished things had worked out differently. The situation he was currently in wasn’t ideal for anyone involved, especially not himself, and probably not even T’Challa when all was eventually said and done.

“Your highness, while I appreciate this gesture, I really don’t think-”

He attempted a sentence of protest before finding himself cut off by a growl deep in the king of Wakanda’s throat. Everett said nothing more after that and instead resigned to his fate with a sharp sigh and a hiss of pain.

T’Challa’s rough warm tongue laved over his face and scalp, making a sickening scraping noise with every stroke. It was painful, but not unbearable; the weight of the king’s paw and limb on his stomach was the real problem. T’Challa had the agent in almost a hug, trapped between strong forelegs with claws ready to secure him even further should the need arise. The occasional slight stab of a claw catching on his skin was enough to make Everett go limp in the king’s grasp, completely and totally in T’Challa’s control.

As Everett laid there in the panther’s grasp, both of them slave to predatory feline instincts, he heard a soft almost gurgling sound from above. He opened an eye to see T’Challa, eyes closed in pleasure, lapping at his hair and eyebrow. Everett sighed and reached a hand up, laying it on the overall smooth but individually coarse fur of T’Challa’s neck.

“Forgive me, your highness, but I’m never letting you live this down. I hope you realize that.”

With one slow purposeful lick to Everett’s half open lips, the man grew silent, T’Challa huffing in satisfaction before returning to his task. There they were found, hours later, Everett Ross fast asleep in the once again human arms of Wakanda’s ruling monarch. T’Challa held the man close and tight, nose tucked into the curve behind Everett’s ear and hands clasped possessively over the man’s stomach.

And if he was all the while suckling gently on Everett’s earlobe as the men slept together on the uncomfortable floor, nobody had to know.


End file.
